It's easy to lose
by jelltells
Summary: It was always so easy for Dumbledore to lose, and he likes to sit and remember the people and things he's lost throughout the years. One-shot.


**A/N: I want to give credit to J.K. Rowling for the quote I used at the end, it can be found in the ****Sorcerer's Stone****. This is my first Harry Potter fan fiction and is based on Elizabeth Bishop's poem titled ****One Art****. Sorry if not all the details are correct as they relate to the books (I made up some of it and embellished parts of it). This is my perspective on how Albus dealt with losing and with his life. Cheers x**

It's easy to lose: to lose that cauldron you bought when you were seven, to lose that toad your mom gave you as a present so you could practice your transfiguration lessons, to lose that letter your brother sent you while he was away at school and you were still stuck at home, to lose a contest at Hogwarts because you took your eyes off the prize and decided to go home for the holidays instead of staying at school and studying. It's all so very easy to lose the things of adolescence.

Yes, Dumbledore knew what it was like to lose. He felt the pain of loss in his bones everyday when he woke up, and prayed for the things that he loss to return to him at night, right before he went to sleep. He thinks back to a time when the loss of youth wasn't as earth shattering as the loss of old age. Time has made Albus sentimental. He recognizes this. He tries not to give into the time of places and people far away and long gone, but sometimes it rains and it makes Albus just a little bit sad. It used to take a lot for Albus to get melancholy, now it seems that the littlest thing will set him off. He knows he must be strong for the cause, for the students and for their parents looking up to him, but the strong get weak too. Like many things, Albus knows this better than most. And loss, well, Albus Dumbledore could write 100 novels on the subject of loss and still think that his brain has yet to be picked on the subject. Loss was always a part of life. It is for everyone. But for Albus, the pain of loss was the most painful of all. All of his life has been loss after loss. And now he hasn't much to lose, at least, he knows the things that must be lost in the future: he knows the people who will soon be lost, he knows that Hogwarts will soon be dangerous, he knows that much blood will be spilled in order for the wizarding world to be cleansed. He knows these things. He does not mourn the one who has been raised for slaughter. Once you've been used to losing your whole life, you get used to seeing others lose each other. You get used to the numbness you force yourself to employ in order to keep from losing your head. He doesn't let himself mourn the lives and the youth that must be killed in order to win this war. He never has.

Loss is just a part of life, he tells himself, as he loses the First Year Potion Competition in Professor Lorwick's class to Peggy Littleton. He crushed a dragon scale with too much force and there wasn't enough juice for the Sempre Potion. Albus is angry with himself. Potions didn't come as easy to him as his other subjects did, but he knew that was no excuse.

He writes to his mother and she gives him words of encouragement, "Take your time and study up. When you put your mind to something, Albus, you're unstoppable!" And so Albus studies. And studies. And studies. He becomes so used to studying that he finds it strange to be anywhere but the library. But since he's Albus Dumbledore, he continues making time for friends and for visiting his teachers. He even enrolls in a few clubs, all in his first year. And the Second Year Potion Competition is a piece of cake for Albus. He never again loses a school competition.

He lost his father before he came to Hogwarts. He lost the respect of people and students he did not know, all because his father _lost_ his temper. Albus will soon gain the respect of those around him, because he does not lose. Albus loses nothing in his youth, except his family. Albus accepts quickly after arriving at Hogwarts that his father was long gone. He does not mourn him. He resents him at times. But his father is lost to him for the rest of his life.

Losing becomes easier as time wears on. Albus's brother is excited to graduate from Hogwarts and move on with his life. Albus doesn't ask, and Aberforth doesn't tell, but both brothers know why Aberforth is so excited to be leaving Hogwarts. Even as a younger brother, Albus' shadow extended longer than anyone's at Hogwarts, and Aberforth was forced to live in it. Albus can't help this, he tells himself as he sits reminiscing in the Head Master's Office, sipping a cup of mandrake tea. He couldn't help that he was brilliant. Albus doesn't believe in himself as much as others do, but he understands where a younger version of himself would have foolishly believed in his own vanity. He forgave himself long ago for the foolishness and self-love of a youth, it was one of the few things he did forgive himself for. He understands where he went wrong, but he does not forgive himself for the consequences of those choices.

Albus Dumbledore loses his future right after graduation, well, at least the future _he_ wanted. He was supposed to go on the "Grand Tour" with Elphias Doge to see the world, and go seek adventure before their adult life began. But of course, Albus' mother died, and with her died the bright future that Albus had built for himself. Of course Albus was successful. Of course Albus went on and was instrumental to saving the wizarding world. Of course, of course, of course. But it doesn't mean that Albus wouldn't have changed a few things in his life. It doesn't mean he didn't wish that he was on the Grand Tour when everything began going wrong.

Albus almost loses himself. Those evenings spent with Grindelwald, talking of big ideas and exchanging philosophies and theories and _magic, _were admittedly exhilarating. Albus had thought he found someone who's mind was just as sharp and curious as his own. He thought that Grindelwald and him could change the world together. All of this proved to be wrong. Albus would have to walk down his own path without anyones' support. But at the time, Albus believed he was destined for greatness by Grindelwald's side.

Then Aberforth got involved, which he should have, Albus thinks looking back onto that steamy summer. His brother was always better than he was and hardly anyone recognized it. Ariana was being neglected by Albus. He was bitter, he could not deny it. His future had been disrupted by his family: a family that he still felt ashamed of because of his father's past. He had fought so hard to change the reputation he had arrived with at Hogwarts, and he thought he had succeeded. But coming back to his family had been hard for him, and Albus hadn't ever really felt attached his family anyways. He knew he had to help Aberforth raise Ariana (a task which would soon be unnecessary) but he didn't want to.

The day that Albus and Aberforth buried their sister was the day that Albus and Aberforth didn't say a word to one another. They said their speeches at the funeral and that was it. They didn't speak to each other, they didn't look at each other, and they didn't acknowledge the other's existence. There was so much pain and anger coursing through their veins and they didn't know whom it was directed at. It was gloomy that day, Albus would tell himself 95 years later. It was gloomy. The clouds were gray and everyone attending the funeral was bleak looking. Albus and Aberforth cried themselves to sleep that night, both listening to the other's whimpering in the room over. Albus felt such guilt as cannot be told. He didn't know whose curse was the one to kill his sister, and he never would. Luckily, he did not lose his sanity over the matter. Neither brother did. But that does not mean they didn't wish for it.

Albus lost his brother the day he lost his sister. There was such minimal interaction over the years with his brother that Albus is now even is able to repress the emotions he has towards him. Albus wants to apologize but he knows he never will.

He leans back in his grand velvet chair in his office and looks at Fawkes. He thinks about his brother more and more these days. He wonders about his life and he wonders how he gets on. He wonders if his brother believes everything that is written about Albus in the Daily Prophet. He knows he probably doesn't. But he wonders all the same.

And Albus thinks about Ariana and the portrait that Aberforth has of her. He undoubtedly got to keep it after her death. Albus never once wanted it. Maybe it was guilt or a feeling of obligation towards his brother, but Albus tries thinks about Ariana as little as he possibly can. Albus finds it pathetic that 95 years have passed and Ariana's death still feels like a fresh scar. That's what he likes about being a teacher and a headmaster at Hogwarts: the students are so young and many haven't lost a single thing yet. They don't have gashes on their hearts. They're worried about their Potions or Ancient Runes test and they aren't worried about facing Voldemort or about facing the evil that is out there in the world. There's even so much evil inside oneself. Albus thinks about these things as he listens to rain drops pattering against the windowpane. He strokes his beard and takes a knife to those scars. He needs to know if he can still bleed for things and people long gone.

Aberforth and Albus rarely interact for the rest of their lives. They are both on the same side of the war, and they both help the cause, to different extents. Both know the other is still there and they both know where to find each other. They rarely go seeking one another, though. They have no reason to. There's nothing new to talk about and the past is better left alone. So life moves on.

Later in his life, Albus begins losing the war. He knows the dangerous precipice that he balances on trying to keep one foot at Hogwarts and his other fighting Voldenmort. Albus begins losing the Order of the Phoenix. So many people dead or crazed after the deatheaters got to them: Lily and James Potter, The Longbottoms. It seemed as if everyone were losing themselves. Albus thinks back to the First War with anger: anger at himself. He knew Voldemort would be back and he should have done more to stop him. He should have done more when he was at Hogwarts….but it does not matter. Albus does not waste time thinking of things that could have been changed. He does not waste time at all these days, except to take a relaxing bath or have a cup of tea.

Time begins to slip away from Albus. It seems that even time can be lost. Albus is almost always alert, but he rarely has any enjoyment out of his important duties. He loves Hogwarts, and he loves watching students grow and mature, and he loves the feasts at the Great Hall, and he loves talking to the teachers and he loves studying and reading his books. He loves many things that can never be taken away from him, but he knows soon enough they will. That's why time seems to be lost to Albus, because he cannot always be at Hogwarts to enjoy the little moments. He doesn't have much pleasure nowadays and time seems to become empty.

Albus paces around his office and looks at all the shifting and swirling memories he keeps in his cupboard. He looks at all the books that surround him, many which were written by his close friends throughout the years. He looks at the Sorting Hat and at all the portraits of Hogwarts Headmasters. And Albus strokes his beard and prepares himself for what is to come. Albus does not fear the future now that it's closing in on him. Albus does not fear paying the ultimate price and losing everything. Not anymore. He would have at one time, but the tricky thing about time is that is changes people. It changes the views and opinions and looks and personality of a person. Some are affected negatively while others flourish under time's power. Albus has always thought that he has grown into his old age and has only become more of the man that he always wanted to be. So he does not fear losing anymore. He can't fear losing anymore. Not since he knows what must be lost.

And of course, the last thing to lose is your life. And Albus knows that Severus will make it quick and almost painless. It will not be completely painless, because you still wish, you still cling onto the small bit of life that is allotted to you. Albus knows he's lived a long time, he knows that it's time to let go. But Albus still tends to get sentimental. Now that sentimentality is stronger than ever and Albus can feel it pulling him in at every moment. But Albus is brilliant and self control has never been too difficult for him. He recognizes that the Malfoy boy will not be able to go through with the act. Albus recognizes a lamb when he sees one. The Malfoy men have always wanted to be superior, but they've always been a cowardly sort, and they never wanted this war. And Albus knows that the Malfoy boy will need a way out. So he finally gives into the voices in his head and begins letting go of this life. He does not fear death, he discovers. He thought he might, but he pleasantly realizes that he fears nothing nowadays. He's lived such a long time and seen so much. He begins to like the idea of losing all of it. Of resting. Of slipping away quickly and without much hassle.

He has fought many great battles in his life: with Grindelwald, with Voldemort, with his conscience- but never has he given up so easily. So many things to lose in this life, and Albus seems to have lost them all.

So as he stands on the tower and confronts Snape and death, Albus is calm. He approaches death with grace and understanding. As his great friend Nicholas Flamel once said, "After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure." Albus is ready. For once in his life, he is ready to lose. So much has been lost to him, and yet, losing his life is the easiest by far. A flash of green. A twitch of a dark finger. And a final thought, "It's easy to lose." And then all is, finally, lost.


End file.
